Big Beautiful Dreamer
ridiculously contented
Stuffing, Romance - Meeting his girlfriend's family for the first time, Thomas complies with her culture's approval of a big appetite.
*Credit to Goddess for Hire, Sonia Singh. © 2004; and India: Information Overload. TIME Magazine, May 13, 2005.
Thomas glanced at Haniya, who was scarcely able to contain herself; she was practically fizzing. Chill out, he advised her, patting her knee.
But listen, Haniya said, her brow suddenly wrinkling. I havent told you, greet my mother first
and be very respectful, Haniya, this is about the tenth time youve mentioned it. I get it.
Haniya slumped back in the passenger seat. This is important, she said. Ive never dated a non-Indian. If it doesnt go well, theyll go back to sending me bio-data sheets in the mail.
Thomas laughed out loud. Youve been educating me for weeks, he said. I think I do remember a little.
At the house, Thomas greeted Haniyas mother with Namaste and a slight bow. She beamed. Duty executed, Thomas then greeted Haniyas father, two aunts, an uncle, two brothers, and a sister-in-law. Haniya disappeared into the kitchen with the other women, murmuring, Tradition in Thomas ear as she left him at the long dining room table with the men.
They sat around the table sipping hot tea and making small talk. Thomas health was asked after, his schooling, previous girlfriends (his answer of four seemed to garner approval), and a recent trip to New York on business led to a wealth of questions. Haniya reappeared with the others, bringing out dishes. Thomas began to understand why the table was longer than usual. As Haniya heaped Thomas plate, she murmured the foods names. Samosas, pakoras, vegetable tikki. They were all delicious and Thomas emptied his plate quickly.
Oh, Haniyas mother murmured. Haniya, she prompted. Haniya quickly put more appetizers on Thomas plate. Well when in Delhi Thomas emptied his plate again. He was getting full. Without prompting, Haniya piled it with Tandoori shrimp. It was so delicious he ate every scrap. Maybe that was a mistake. For one, now that his plate was empty, Haniya was piling it up again; for another, his stomach was getting piled up. He felt his belly begin to push against his waistband, his stomach beginning to feel warm and heavy.
Lamb korba, tarka dal, saag paneer, naan, paneer makhari, all with mountains of rice and more tea and more tea and more tea. There didnt seem to be any end to the meal, and there was no declining either. It seemed that every time he managed to clean his plate, Haniya refilled it. His belly began to ache. Discreetly he wriggled a thumb into his waistband, trying to create some space that wasnt there.
The rate at which fork was raised to mouth slowed considerably. Each bite seemed harder to swallow. It tasted fantastic, but he was about to burst. Finally he stopped, fork in hand, and, with a glance at Haniya, lowered it. He had failed to clean his plate; he was going to grievously insult Haniyas family; there would be a new Anglo-Indian war, or something.
Instead, Haniyas mother beamed. Ah, she said. Time for dessert.
Really, no, Thomas started to say, but Haniya kicked him under the table and so Thomas slowly spooned his way through a dish of ice cream. His hearing seemed to have gone and conversation was moving in slow motion. It could have been days, weeks, before they finally left, after a prolonged farewell in the foyer.
The second the door closed, Thomas said to Haniya, You drive. She slid into the drivers seat, grunting a little, and started the car. Thomas reclined his seat and, with a good deal of difficulty, unbuttoned his jeans. He hicupped as his painfully constricted abdomen ballooned, now tautly distended and achingly tender. He began to gently massage his sore and swollen belly. He seemed to be short of breath.
Ive never been so full in my life, he puffed, a statement punctuated with several large and spicy belches.
Haniya, too, was rubbing her belly with her free hand and Thomas noticed that her shirt had quite inadvertently become a crop top. The waistband of her slacks was pulled awfully snug, the button ready to pop with every shallow breath she took. Several strands of hair had come undone and were clinging damply to her honey-colored face.
Ugh, me too, she groaned. I ate too much. She burped. Ohhhh. She pressed a hand to her swollen tummy, round as a mound of rice on the plate.
Okay, Thomas grunted. What was that about? He belched. Ooh.
Haniya started to laugh, then clutched her bloated belly and groaned instead. In India, she said, the son is forbidden to have an empty plate. She paused as she deftly merged onto the freeway, then resumed.
Moreover, serving a guest (hic!) ooh is like serving God. She was panting and had to brush a damp strand of hair out of her eyes.
Thomas grimaced as he suppressed breaking wind. Empty plate, huh? You couldnt (hic!) tell me sooner?
Ohhh. Haniya groaned and gently massaged her distended and aching middle. Forgot. But, she added with a hiccup, this is why I dont see them more often. Id be huge. Oooh.
Thomas was steadily rubbing his gorged and aching belly, coaxing along digestion and trying to relieve his discomfort. How come your mother decided it was dessert time just as I was so full I couldnt swallow another bite? This lengthy question took almost a minute to get out, punctuated by shallow breaths and the occasional belch.
A gurgle escaped Haniyas throat and her eyes twinkled as she answered. Youre supposed to -- oh! Hic! -- leave some on your plate, she panted. If you clean ooohhh your plate youre still hungry.
Thomas rolled his eyes and groaned. Sated and achingly full, he wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep it off. His head bobbed and he began to snore.
The change in the cars rhythm woke him up as they parked, and he gazed sleepily at Haniya. A surge of arousal unexpectedly coursed through him and he raised an eyebrow at her. Just as unexpectedly, she blushed. Without a word, they both hastened out of the car and up to the apartment, fumbling the keys, and stumbled to the bedroom, where they tugged, grunting with effort, out of their now-snug clothes. Together they sank gently onto the bed and turned toward each other. Still wordlessly they clung and caressed, gently pressing and massaging each others full bellies, stroking hair, cuddling bottoms, gradually getting more playful until she straddled him and they coupled, quickly finding a languid yet intense rhythm. Their intimacy went on for what felt like a very long time and when it ended, neither wanted to come back to normality.
Haniya broke the spell with a loud hiccup that made them both laugh.
Well, thats one way to burn calories, Thomas said, and Haniya giggled again. For a while, saying nothing, they lay with her head on his chest, breathing deeply, watching their still-full bellies rise and fall.
I would have said I was too full to move, much less Thomas said.
I know, Haniya agreed. But
Nothing more was said on the subject for a few days, then they went out to dinner at a Chinese buffet. Theyd both had a moderate amount, and were about to leave, when the proprietor set out fresh bins of sesame chicken, Thomass favorite, and cashew chicken, Haniyas favorite, along with lo mein, which they both liked. Almost without thinking they piled their plates high.
Oh, Im getting full, Haniya said with her mouth full, just as Thomas said, I should quit. He stifled a belch. Both kept eating, though, and when Thomas went up for more again, he brought back a big plateful of lo mein and cashew chicken for Haniya and she didnt say no.
Slowly, they cleaned their plates. Haniyas face was damp and Thomas kept fighting the urge to unbutton his jeans in public. After paying, they trudged out the door and started walking home, taking their time. They were holding hands, and clutching their full bellies with their free hands. Thomas protruded out tautly, a full inch or more beyond his waistband, while Haniyas swelled more gravid and pear shaped, a distended teardrop straining the fabric of her shirt, which no longer quite reached her snug waistband.
Thomas changed postures, reclaiming his hand and sliding it instead around Haniyas waist. Was it a little softer? His hand cradled the smallish cushion about the waistband that the huge dinner had created. In turn, Haniya slipped her arm around Thomas, giving a teasing poke to the tautly swollen belly. She rested her other hand on the pillow of his gorged and distended midsection, enjoying the warmth and solidity.
After about a block, Thomas said, If I keep eating like this, Ill get huge.
Well get huge, Haniya said.
You have really good genes though, Thomas pointed out.
Jeans that used to fit, Haniya said ruefully, deliberately misunderstanding him.
I mean not that I care Thomas mumbled.
Well I care, Haniya said, but hesitantly, questioningly.
Thomas ever so gently squeezed the softness that spilled over Haniyas waistband. I, for one, think we should visit your family more often.
Currying Favor
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
*Credit to Goddess for Hire, Sonia Singh. © 2004; and India: Information Overload. TIME Magazine, May 13, 2005.
Thomas glanced at Haniya, who was scarcely able to contain herself; she was practically fizzing. Chill out, he advised her, patting her knee.
But listen, Haniya said, her brow suddenly wrinkling. I havent told you, greet my mother first
and be very respectful, Haniya, this is about the tenth time youve mentioned it. I get it.
Haniya slumped back in the passenger seat. This is important, she said. Ive never dated a non-Indian. If it doesnt go well, theyll go back to sending me bio-data sheets in the mail.
Thomas laughed out loud. Youve been educating me for weeks, he said. I think I do remember a little.
At the house, Thomas greeted Haniyas mother with Namaste and a slight bow. She beamed. Duty executed, Thomas then greeted Haniyas father, two aunts, an uncle, two brothers, and a sister-in-law. Haniya disappeared into the kitchen with the other women, murmuring, Tradition in Thomas ear as she left him at the long dining room table with the men.
They sat around the table sipping hot tea and making small talk. Thomas health was asked after, his schooling, previous girlfriends (his answer of four seemed to garner approval), and a recent trip to New York on business led to a wealth of questions. Haniya reappeared with the others, bringing out dishes. Thomas began to understand why the table was longer than usual. As Haniya heaped Thomas plate, she murmured the foods names. Samosas, pakoras, vegetable tikki. They were all delicious and Thomas emptied his plate quickly.
Oh, Haniyas mother murmured. Haniya, she prompted. Haniya quickly put more appetizers on Thomas plate. Well when in Delhi Thomas emptied his plate again. He was getting full. Without prompting, Haniya piled it with Tandoori shrimp. It was so delicious he ate every scrap. Maybe that was a mistake. For one, now that his plate was empty, Haniya was piling it up again; for another, his stomach was getting piled up. He felt his belly begin to push against his waistband, his stomach beginning to feel warm and heavy.
Lamb korba, tarka dal, saag paneer, naan, paneer makhari, all with mountains of rice and more tea and more tea and more tea. There didnt seem to be any end to the meal, and there was no declining either. It seemed that every time he managed to clean his plate, Haniya refilled it. His belly began to ache. Discreetly he wriggled a thumb into his waistband, trying to create some space that wasnt there.
The rate at which fork was raised to mouth slowed considerably. Each bite seemed harder to swallow. It tasted fantastic, but he was about to burst. Finally he stopped, fork in hand, and, with a glance at Haniya, lowered it. He had failed to clean his plate; he was going to grievously insult Haniyas family; there would be a new Anglo-Indian war, or something.
Instead, Haniyas mother beamed. Ah, she said. Time for dessert.
Really, no, Thomas started to say, but Haniya kicked him under the table and so Thomas slowly spooned his way through a dish of ice cream. His hearing seemed to have gone and conversation was moving in slow motion. It could have been days, weeks, before they finally left, after a prolonged farewell in the foyer.
The second the door closed, Thomas said to Haniya, You drive. She slid into the drivers seat, grunting a little, and started the car. Thomas reclined his seat and, with a good deal of difficulty, unbuttoned his jeans. He hicupped as his painfully constricted abdomen ballooned, now tautly distended and achingly tender. He began to gently massage his sore and swollen belly. He seemed to be short of breath.
Ive never been so full in my life, he puffed, a statement punctuated with several large and spicy belches.
Haniya, too, was rubbing her belly with her free hand and Thomas noticed that her shirt had quite inadvertently become a crop top. The waistband of her slacks was pulled awfully snug, the button ready to pop with every shallow breath she took. Several strands of hair had come undone and were clinging damply to her honey-colored face.
Ugh, me too, she groaned. I ate too much. She burped. Ohhhh. She pressed a hand to her swollen tummy, round as a mound of rice on the plate.
Okay, Thomas grunted. What was that about? He belched. Ooh.
Haniya started to laugh, then clutched her bloated belly and groaned instead. In India, she said, the son is forbidden to have an empty plate. She paused as she deftly merged onto the freeway, then resumed.
Moreover, serving a guest (hic!) ooh is like serving God. She was panting and had to brush a damp strand of hair out of her eyes.
Thomas grimaced as he suppressed breaking wind. Empty plate, huh? You couldnt (hic!) tell me sooner?
Ohhh. Haniya groaned and gently massaged her distended and aching middle. Forgot. But, she added with a hiccup, this is why I dont see them more often. Id be huge. Oooh.
Thomas was steadily rubbing his gorged and aching belly, coaxing along digestion and trying to relieve his discomfort. How come your mother decided it was dessert time just as I was so full I couldnt swallow another bite? This lengthy question took almost a minute to get out, punctuated by shallow breaths and the occasional belch.
A gurgle escaped Haniyas throat and her eyes twinkled as she answered. Youre supposed to -- oh! Hic! -- leave some on your plate, she panted. If you clean ooohhh your plate youre still hungry.
Thomas rolled his eyes and groaned. Sated and achingly full, he wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep it off. His head bobbed and he began to snore.
The change in the cars rhythm woke him up as they parked, and he gazed sleepily at Haniya. A surge of arousal unexpectedly coursed through him and he raised an eyebrow at her. Just as unexpectedly, she blushed. Without a word, they both hastened out of the car and up to the apartment, fumbling the keys, and stumbled to the bedroom, where they tugged, grunting with effort, out of their now-snug clothes. Together they sank gently onto the bed and turned toward each other. Still wordlessly they clung and caressed, gently pressing and massaging each others full bellies, stroking hair, cuddling bottoms, gradually getting more playful until she straddled him and they coupled, quickly finding a languid yet intense rhythm. Their intimacy went on for what felt like a very long time and when it ended, neither wanted to come back to normality.
Haniya broke the spell with a loud hiccup that made them both laugh.
Well, thats one way to burn calories, Thomas said, and Haniya giggled again. For a while, saying nothing, they lay with her head on his chest, breathing deeply, watching their still-full bellies rise and fall.
I would have said I was too full to move, much less Thomas said.
I know, Haniya agreed. But
Nothing more was said on the subject for a few days, then they went out to dinner at a Chinese buffet. Theyd both had a moderate amount, and were about to leave, when the proprietor set out fresh bins of sesame chicken, Thomass favorite, and cashew chicken, Haniyas favorite, along with lo mein, which they both liked. Almost without thinking they piled their plates high.
Oh, Im getting full, Haniya said with her mouth full, just as Thomas said, I should quit. He stifled a belch. Both kept eating, though, and when Thomas went up for more again, he brought back a big plateful of lo mein and cashew chicken for Haniya and she didnt say no.
Slowly, they cleaned their plates. Haniyas face was damp and Thomas kept fighting the urge to unbutton his jeans in public. After paying, they trudged out the door and started walking home, taking their time. They were holding hands, and clutching their full bellies with their free hands. Thomas protruded out tautly, a full inch or more beyond his waistband, while Haniyas swelled more gravid and pear shaped, a distended teardrop straining the fabric of her shirt, which no longer quite reached her snug waistband.
Thomas changed postures, reclaiming his hand and sliding it instead around Haniyas waist. Was it a little softer? His hand cradled the smallish cushion about the waistband that the huge dinner had created. In turn, Haniya slipped her arm around Thomas, giving a teasing poke to the tautly swollen belly. She rested her other hand on the pillow of his gorged and distended midsection, enjoying the warmth and solidity.
After about a block, Thomas said, If I keep eating like this, Ill get huge.
Well get huge, Haniya said.
You have really good genes though, Thomas pointed out.
Jeans that used to fit, Haniya said ruefully, deliberately misunderstanding him.
I mean not that I care Thomas mumbled.
Well I care, Haniya said, but hesitantly, questioningly.
Thomas ever so gently squeezed the softness that spilled over Haniyas waistband. I, for one, think we should visit your family more often.
